


Rise, Then Fall

by hotaryu



Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018), Heneral Luna (2015) RPF
Genre: Angst, Battle, Brotherly Love, Gen, Grief, Hurt, Pain, Siblings, Suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 05:37:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16780669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotaryu/pseuds/hotaryu
Summary: It doesn’t take long before Etoy falls.





	Rise, Then Fall

**Author's Note:**

> -Based on the document of Milagros Enriquez, using the diary of Vicente Enriquez and an oral testimony of one of the Battle of San Rafael survivors.  
> -Tambobong is Baliwag

It doesn’t take long before the day comes. Torres had commanded them to go to Tambobong, so now here they were: right in Tambobong.

“San Rafael,” Etoy had decided, as they marched. “Dun na lang tayo lumipat

The mountains were unlike anything Enteng had ever walked. He had been used to the roads in Bulakan, in Manila, when he had been studying in the Ateneo. They’d been flat, but this road was treacherous enough.

“Bakit naman po San Rafael?” had asked Mang Tomas. Enteng had grown up with him, and so did Etoy. He was almost family – no, he was family, Enteng corrected himself. He had been the carriage driver of the family. Once Etoy had joined Katipunan, then Enteng, then so Jose had followed – and their own tenants. Not that Enteng was not aware of the standing his own family had commanded. They were lucky, in so many countless ways.

“Maganda yung lugar, mas malapit sa may kuwartel ng kalaban.” Etoy grinned, before nodding to Enteng. Enteng had nodded. Then they had kept on walking, till they had found the place.

The months had been eventful. Enteng did not know whether to feel happy or scared at how far their unit had come. Barangay Uliran had been their unit, home base, the same men Enteng had bought with him to Pitpitan, for his very first victory. They’d come a long way from the disillusioned men in Masukol.

It was caution to the wind. This had been a stone’s throw to disaster. Before long, the pendulum swung and the straw on the camel’s back had broken. Time suddenly had become a blur, the concept of the dangers that laid ahead no longer comprehensible to Etoy’s sensibilities.

A spy and with both Ate Victoria and their mother in jail, and that was how Enteng felt the weight of being a part of this revolution, right on the chip of his shoulders. He was almost seventeen, a colonel, a leader; he’d forsaken his last year at the Ateneo for this. Etoy, and he… They had both thrown their lot in now for this.

“Enteng?” Kuya Etoy asked, as the men settled down. Colonel Ascuncion assembled the guns in one corner. The crickets chirped loudly.

“Ano po iyon, Kuya?” And Enteng set down the cartridges and powder he had bought with him. They had been from Tambobong.

“Kaya mo pa ba?”

Enteng nodded. He never backed down. He was Dalinding for a reason. There was no cockiness, however in Kuya Etoy’s eyes, no pure bravado. Matanglawin was bold. Matanglawin was smart, intelligent, an amazing leader…

But Dalinding knew he could never be Matanglawin. He’d only been there. Only his presence, when Kuya Etoy had been younger and competed with Goyong.

“Oo naman.”

Enteng forced his lips into his crooked smile. No cares anymore, he reminded himself. His feet ached; so did his back and thighs, from the hiking. The lack of sleep was no excuse to fail, in case something happened tomorrow. Etoy’s head was on the line. He was here to support his brother, as always.

“Ikaw, Kuya?”

“Lagi naman, Enteng. O siya, tulog ka na. Kailangan natin ng lakas bukas.”

* * *

It was seven in the morning, when it became madness. The angry slap of wood and the meeting of bullet against skin and church were its hymns, the yelling of the men a choir, and all it needed was the sacrificial lamb in the altar. The sounds of gunshots, and the violence sewed the place with a fervor heaven could not quench.

“Umatras kayo sa simbahan!” Enteng remembered Kuya Etoy, General Anacleto, order. His voice had been a beacon, clear and shining. The men – they grunted in order. So they followed. To the depths of the four walls – to fight.

This would not be like Pitpitan. Pitpitan was child’s play. It had been a ruse to start atrocities. It doesn’t need to take long before everything will be undone.

He’s running now. The only thing he feels – he struggles to feel. A numbness to the change and how fast it all was. A thud in his chest, where his heart should be. Ringing where his ears should hear, and the hissing of his veins.

Where to go? What to do now? Perhaps Kuya Etoy would manage. After all, Kuya Etoy was amazing.

“Hoy!” hisses Anselmo Hilario. Enteng runs to his direction. Together, they duck, behind a tree. From their position, they spotted them: the blue of the Spanish rayadillo.

_ Punyeta. _ Enteng bites his tongue. More firing.

“Ano balak mo?” he asks.

Captain Anselmo raises a brow.

“Gusto ko munang bantayin yung lugar.”

Enteng cranes his head. It would be chaos in there. He doesn’t want to think. His nerves are a little fragile.

“Lumikas na tayo bukas,” he admits.

“Sige, ah, sinabi mo yan, Koronel.” The captain’s lips twitch. Enteng nods. If he looked back, it would be too late. He trusted Etoy. Etoy would never let him down.

_ Magkikita kami ni Kuya bukas. _ Enteng tightens his hold on his gun. He could do it. Another snap decision. This wasn’t going to change anything, was it?

_ Magkikita kami ni Kuya bukas. Magkikita kami ni Kuya bukas. _

Before he runs, he gives the church one last look.

* * *

It rains and it rains as if the sky is weeping.

Anselmo gives him a chilling look, and Enteng tries not to complain. His body aches again. His head hurts, throbbing. Kakarong is a safe haven – if only for a night. The walls of the fortress are big. 

“Sa tingin mo, anong nangyari sa kanila?”

Enteng shrugs. But his stomach churns. And his ears, his veins, the beating of his heart, tell him darkness. His belly lurches.

Out of nowhere, a white butterfly drops on his shoulder, and he blinks. The sky darkens, and the drizzle continues with their pats on the ground.

There are no words for loss. Not even when he has words for the hollowness that sifts in his chest. Or the sense of dread, of a tomorrow where he would fight on his own. He doesn’t want to think of Ate Victoria. Or his mother. Or his father. 

For now, he will grieve. And it will suffice for now. The revolution will continue, he wills himself. With or without Kuya Etoy. 


End file.
